Deluge verse Snippets
by Silver Spider
Summary: A collection of short snippets set in the Deluge!verse. Mostly family fluff.
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's Note:**_ If I ever decide to do a full-fledged sequel, it'll take place 3 years from now around the "A Death in the Family" arc. And with such a dark story to look forward to, I thought I'd post a few fluffy snippets. They're in no particular order, and I'll add more as little stories come to mind.

* * *

The first sound to be remotely like a word like a word to come out of Damian's mouth was 'ba', and it was generally much agreed upon that 'ba' stood for 'bat' instead of 'bottle' because Talia had never allowed that to touch her precious baby's mouth. His second word was 'dada' which Bruce took personal pride in. She was willing to let that one go, but when he pointed at Jason and clearly said 'yasa', her patience broke.

"Mama. Just once, baby. Say 'mama'."

From the high chair, the eleven-month-old blinked, and she groaned putting her forehead on her arms on the table. She had been at this several times already, and the current trial was running well into a half hour. Propping her cheek against the heel of her palm, she gave him a tired look.

"I am not above bribing you with snacks," she informed him.

Damian instantly held out a chubby hand and flexed his fingers. He might not have understood 'bribing' but he was very familiar with the other word. Talia sighed and gave him a carrot stick to chew on. Footsteps from behind alerted her that someone was coming, and a moment later, Jason trotted into the kitchen heading for the fridge.

"Hey, what are we doing?" He came to stand by her with a glass of juice.

"We," she gave the baby a little glare, "are trying to get my ungrateful child to acknowledged the importance of my existence."

"Oh." He took a sip of the juice, screwed the cap back on, and fixed his brother with a very serious look. "Damian." He waited until the baby turned to him and locked on his gaze. Then he pointed to her. "This is mommy. But she can only be your mommy if you call her that. I mean, how else is she gonna know, right?"

The child clearly looked distressed. His little hands slapped down on the high chair table in front of him. The baby's bottom lip quivered, and he looked like he was about to work himself into a good cry. Talia was ready to jump to his aid, but Jason just shook his head, unimpressed.

"No, Damian, that doesn't work. Wanna know what does?" He turned to her with a big smile. "Hi, Mom."  
Talia's eyes widened for a moment, and all she managed was. "Hello, Jason."

"See?" He turned back to a now confused-looking Damian. "You try."

The baby brought a fist to his mouth and chewed for a bit, all the while looking at Talia with some measure of caution. Finally his nearly-toothless mouth opened and what started as babble soon very became a very clear, "Mamamama."

Talia stared in disbelief, and Jason grinned. "Mission accomplished."

Finally coming out of her shock, she leaned over and kissed the boy's cheek. "Thank you, darling."

"You're welcome," Jason shrugged.

Damian picked that point to let out a loud wail. He'd done all the work, after all, and he was going to make sure he got some attention for it too.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Author's Note:**_ If I ever wrote a sequel it would definitely be part of that.

* * *

If you asked Jason, the gang of boys had it coming a mile away. And no, he had no illusions that it would be any different in a private school. The preps might be afraid to get their hands as dirty, but what they lacked in balls they made up for in snobbery. Kids – especially teenagers – could be absolutely horrible. He'd have to have a talk with Mom and Dad when Damian was old enough to go to school.

And speaking of at least one parental unit…

"You know, I just took on like… five guys," he held up a splayed palm, "and you're scaring me more than all of them combined."

Looming in her three-inch heels above his sitting position in the uncomfortable plastic school chair, Talia merely smiled sweetly, her perfectly manicured nails tapping on either side of her crossed arms. Jason gulped.

"Strike that. You scare me more than most of inmates in Arkham."

"Why, thank you, darling." Her smile broadened. "What I would really like to know is… what were you thinking?"

"Pretty sure the whole universe wonders that most of the time," Jason replied with mock philosophy.

"Charming. But as I am your mother, I take precedent over the universe."

He laughed, because, yes, Talia was better at this then Bruce. With him it would be disproving looks now, a long lecture on the way home, hours in the cave's obstetrical course, and probably getting benched from anything Robin for a while. Talia cared more about why he felt the need to knock out five other boys than the fact that he was suspended for the rest of the week and had detention for another.

She was still waiting for him to talk. Jason screwed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Alright." He pushed himself out of the chair. It scraped against the floor.

He made his way a few doors down the hall, Talia close behind him. Students gave them curious looks, but it was the middle of sixth period so the halls were mostly clear. Jason stopped at the door to the nurse's office. It was only lightly frosted, and he nodded inside. His mother tilted her head a little for a look, frowned, then looked back at him.

"Who is that boy?"

"So very glad you asked. The kid with the ice pack is one Timothy Jackson Drake, age twelve, new this year."

"Twelve?" She raised a brow.

"Mhmm. He's some kind of wunderkind, smartest person under thirty in the city. Probably the state. Honestly, I don't know what he's doing here instead of like Harvard or MIT or something."

"And?"

"And he gets picked on. A lot." Jason shrugged. "He's small, crazy smart, and kind of a loner. I don't mean the shoot-up-a-school kind of loner. He's really nice. Smiles and says hi whenever we run into each other in the hall."

"You are surprised people are kind to you?" She gave him a sympathetic look.

"Mom, it's Gotham." Jason's voice was so patient it bordered on patronizing. "I'm always surprised when people are nice."

"Tragic."

"Yeah, well, welcome to Gotham City."

She shook her head as if to clear it and crossed her arms once more. "So this Timothy…"

"So nothing," Jason shrugged. "He got cornered by those jerks right before lunch. They got in his face, but he didn't so much as raised his voice to them. When they shoved him into the locker row, I shoved them back. That's pretty much it."

Talia was quiet for a long moment, then sighed. "Jason, I do not need to lecture you. You know full well what both I and your father would say."

"Umm… yay for standing up for the little guy, but shame on me for getting in a fight?" Jason tried. She didn't look appeased. "Come on, Mom. What if that was little d?"

She all but rolled her eyes. "Damian would not be in this situation."

"You're absolutely right. Even at age three he can take those losers without my help."

"Jason…"

"Alright, alright," he gave in. "It's not like they'll mess with the kid again."

"Do not sound so proud." But clearly she was. Jason grinned, and Talia inclined her head towards the door. "Go see your friend."

"Because I'm grounded for the rest of my life, and it might be the last time I see daylight for a while?" he ventured a guess.

"Oh, it is not so much daylight as your nightlife I would worry about," his mother smiled sweetly. "You will, of course, have the chance to plead your case to your father."

Jason's shoulders fell. "I have a better shot at Black Gate."

Her amused chuckle seemed final. He sighed and reached for the door handle.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Author's Note:**_ Happy Thanksgivingkha! This little piece come from a few discussions I've had with reviewers about Jason's outlook on women and trying to instil similar values in his little brother. It doesn't go quite as planned...

* * *

If the Gotham Gazette knew how the Waynes spent their Friday evening – this very _specific_ Friday evening – it would have packed up all its reporters and moved for lack of gossip. Maybe Star City's resident playboy had a more interesting social life. As it was, fifteen-year-old Jason was perfectly content to perch atop the kitchen counter munching on tortilla chips while half-skimming his text book, half-watching his little brother. He wondered if he was the only kid in the world who actually didn't mind baby-sitting duty, and tried to imagine the headline in tomorrow's tabloids.

_'Kids spend boring evening at home, while former playboy Bruce Wayne spends quiet night on the town with his...' What are they calling Mom these days? His not!wife? Pftt..._

Jason tossed his head back and blew out a puff of air. If they got any more domestic, they'd be a sitcom.

At least there was still one member of the family who could be counted on to continue the proud tradition of coming back from an eventful evening. Laughing or making any other kind of derisive sounds was probably not appropriate, but Jason took one look at Dick's bruised face when his brother walked in the back door and couldn't help but snort. The man glared and went to the freezer. Three-year-old Damian, who was happily engaged by a rerun of _The Gray Ghost_ before Dick walked in, stared wide-eyed and pointed.

"Your face..."

"It's nothing, Damian." Dick's attempt at a reassuring smile might have worked better if he didn't have an ice pack to his cheek. "I'm okay."

"He's fine." Jason rolled his eyes but addressed the little boy. "His date just had a serious right hook."

Dick looked affronted. "Hey! This was _not_ from a date."

"Right, because you usually take on Killer Crock or Clayface in broad daylight in," The teen gestured at his attire, "slacks and a nice shirt. But nice try lying to someone being raised and trained by the word's greatest detective."

Damian perked up at this. "Daddy."

"That's right," Jason nodded sagely, then threw Dick a look. "See? Even little d's not buying your b.s.."

The boy blinked. "What's 'b.s.'?"

"Nothing you need to worry about." Jason jabbed a thumb at Dick. "Just remember that this is what happens when you're not nice to girls."

"Why should I be nice to girls?" Damian's brow scrunched together and he tilted his head to observe his eldest brother's bruised face. "They don't look very nice."

"Because Mom's a girl." Jason gave him a sever look. Damian looked at him unconvinced. "Fine. Don't listen. She likes me better anyway."

_That_ got a reaction. "Na-ah!"

"Ya-ha!"

Blackmailing Damian by using their parents affections was nothing new. Really, the kid was too easy. The boy looked utterly distressed and flustered, forgetting all about his show or Dick's adventurous outing.

"Why?" The toddler demanded.

"Because you had a big head." Jason informed him matter-of-factly.

Clearly not knowing how to react to this, Damian chewed on his bottom lip. "Maybe... you had a big head too!" he finally retorted.

"It doesn't matter," the teen folded his arms smugly. "I'm adopted."

Damian was looking at him like he had no idea what he was saying but somehow knew he was winning anyway. But give the kid credit, he wasn't a crier, and the glare/frown he was giving him now only reaffirmed the observation Jason had made at his birth.

Those were definitely al Ghul eye brows.

"Alright," Dick sighed. He putting the ice pack back in the freezer and went over to turn off the television and pick up Damian. "It's past someone's bedtime." He gave Jason a pointed look. "_You_ are not a very nice person."

Jason smirked and pointed to his still-bruised face. "Nicer than you were."


End file.
